


The Scent of Quarantined Wings

by Alexandera_Leigh



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Bandom - Freeform, Community: bandomstuffsit, Fighting, Gay, Long, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Multi, Ryden, Rydon, Slow Burn, Yelling, based on real experiences oof, lmao some of this actually happened to me, love that, mature - Freeform, ships galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandera_Leigh/pseuds/Alexandera_Leigh
Summary: "'Sick', they think, 'what a shame someone so young is so sick.'Sick, sick, sick.Sick with something you can’t see unless you look too deep into his eyes.Sick with something that made him sick of himself, sick of living.sick, sick, sick.What a shame he’s so sick.He’s sick, he’s sick, he’s sick."





	The Scent of Quarantined Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is gonna be my first ever released chaptered fic, and I wanna say just a little before it starts, so please listen cause this is important to me. I spent four days in the month of September, 2018, in a mental hospital. I am diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety, and was admitted for suicidal ideations. This fic will be a way for me to tell people what it was like for me in a less direct way. Not all experiences are like mine. The chapters based on real events I experienced will be marked as such in these author notes. Those chapters are COMPLETELY based on me. My thoughts and actions. All of it is raw and real and true. Please keep in mind that while I don't know the people I use in this story, they are based on people I met. Every band member is symbolic of people I met while admitted, and therefore no one will be painted as morally black or white. If you're looking for pure fiction, this isn't it. there WILL definitely be chapters that are PURE fiction, and they will also be clarified. This is a very short chapter, just to get a feel of how people perceive it. It will continue. Thank you for providing this platform for me, and thank you for caring enough to read this AN drabble. Enjoy.  
> Yes, this chapter is based on my own experiences.

_“Oh, I am very weary,_

_though tears no longer flow;_

_my eyes are tired of weeping,_

_my heart is sick of woe.” -_

_Anne Bronte_

When they come into the hospital room, Ryan quite nearly vomits. It isn’t the medics, no, they look quite nice. A guy with short brown hair, not so short you can see his scalp, but not as long as Ryan’s, which curls behind his ears. A woman is with the man, straight blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few flyways framing her roundish face. No, they don’t scare him. The fact that they are rolling in a gurney makes Ryan feel like they think he’s insane. He can walk, goddamnit. He’s not going to lose his shit and stab someone then run out. He would never. He would never hurt anyone else. He’s the one who deserves it, not them. He’d never. _Never, never, never._

Ryan’s mother is laying by him, and he straightens. Time to be strong, he supposes as he tries to suppress the shudders that have been wracking his body since he left his therapist’s office under strict orders to be taken straight to the nearest hospital. It isn’t the hospital near his house, and he’s only been here once, when his best friend had been bitten by a dog nearby. So, the hallways aren’t foreign, he had been here for hours that day. It’s just the fact that he isn’t going home before he goes to that hospital. To heal, they say. To get better, they say. He’ll try, but the feeling of being ripped away won’t fade.

    His grandparents are sitting off to the side of the room, and when the medics come in with their gurney and polite smiles, his grandmother bursts into tears and his grandfather holds her to him. _Odd,_ He thinks to himself, _they never show physical affection._ He gets up, hospital gown scratching against his skin. He hugs them bye, tears silently leaking out of his eyes without his permission. His grandfather tells him, " be good. _"_ His mother says, " I’ll call you ." His grandma says, " Come back to me soon. _"_ He will. _He will, he will, he will._

    He smiles uneasily at the medics, who do the same back.

    “Do I, uhm,” He takes a shuddering breath, “do I have to get on the gurney?”

    “Yeah,” The woman sighs, “It’s just for transportation, cause you can’t sit in the back of the ambulances, safety, you know.” She smiles more warmly, and yeah, he does know. He knows it’s because of safety. He knows. _He knows, he knows, he knows._ But, when he casts one last smile back at his family as the medics pull the straps on, he still feels like they see him as sick. The medics do ask him if he’s ready to go, and he appreciates that they ask for his consent before they roll him off for a three hour transportation. He nods, somehow.

The woman medic - he can’t remember her name, it went right through his brain - shows him how to adjust the tightness of the straps.

"Just don’t get them too loose, _"_ she chuckles quietly, " can’t have you falling out now, can we?" He smiles out of courtesy, and he shakes his head. No, they really can’t have that, he supposes. He sets his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes. He can’t stand the sympathetic smiles people cast him as they roll along. ' _Sick,'_ they think, ' _what a shame someone so young is so sick.'_ _Sick, sick, sick._ Sick with something you can’t see unless you look too deep into his eyes. Sick with something that made him sick of himself, sick of living. _sick, sick, sick._ What a shame he’s so sick.

**He’s sick, he’s sick, he’s sick.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. Comments and kudos (And comments) Are so very welcome. I'd love to hear about your own experiences if you have them, as well. Stay alive, guys. Love you.  
> yours,  
> \- Alex


End file.
